Everything
by PrincessTiva
Summary: "I always thought I'd know my answer when the question came, you know." "I think you know what you need to do, DiNozzo." Speculation fic for Michael Weatherly's NCIS exit. Tiva.


**A/N: After some (of my favorite) people _very_ subtly hinted that I should write a fic about Tony's departure, I felt like I had to. I'm kidding. I actually _wanted_ to write this :D One week after Michael Weatherly announced the news about his exit seems like a good time to post this.. ;)  
I originally planned to post this in chapters, but then I couldn't decide how to divide it up properly, so now you're just getting the whole thing at once haha!  
**

 **Summary:** "I always thought I'd know my answer when the question came, you know." "I think you know what you need to do, DiNozzo." Speculation fic for Michael Weatherly's NCIS exit. Tiva.

 **Disclaimer:** As usual, I don't own NCIS or any of its characters (we all know things would be different if I did *cough* Tiva *cough*), also you should know that I haven't watched NCIS in like two and a half years, but I tried my best at staying true to the characters haha!

 **Huge thank you to Mary (werealljustwinginit) for helping me brainstorm ideas and reading my outline (and calling this "The Rise of the Tiva Fandom")! And a big hug to my twinnie (olivers-it-girl) for reading the fic and saying it might cause too many casualties.. :D**

 **Please enjoy reading :)**

* * *

Tony took a nervous breath as he watched the door being closed behind him. He turned around, plastering a smile on his face, something he has mastered over the years. He nods at the man sitting in front of him.

"Director," he greets politely.

"DiNozzo," Vance returns the gesture, nodding at him.

"You wanted to see me," Tony said, and again Vance nodded.

"Take a seat," he gestured to the seat in front of the desk he was sitting behind.

Trying to hide the shaking of his hand, Tony pulled the chair back and sat down. He had been joking about being fired with McGee and Bishop down in the bullpen when he'd been called up to Vance's office. But sitting here now, looking right into Vance's serious face, he couldn't help but think that maybe the joke hadn't been too far from the truth. Maybe he was gonna fire him.

"Agent DiNozzo," Vance folded his hands on the desk demonstratively, "it has been a long time since you started here."

Tony was quick to nod. He knew how long he had been working here.

"And you have been working on Gibbs' team ever since," Vance gave Tony a pointed look, "Why?"

"Excuse me, are you asking why I've been working for Gibbs for all these years?" Tony asked, taken aback by the director's question.

Why were they talking about Gibbs? Was his boss in trouble again?

"I know that Director Shepard, in her days, offered you a position as team leader in Rota. You declined the offer."

A humorless laugh escaped Tony as his gaze moved around the room, avoiding Vance's glance.

"Yeah, just wasn't the right time," he eventually said.

"Was it the timing or Rota?" Vance asked.

Tony furrowed his eyebrow in confusion, "Both." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Where was Vance going with this?

Vance nodded, then pushed a manila folder across the table toward Tony. He gave Tony a nod, encouraging him to open the folder. Tony touched the folder hesitantly, before flipping it open, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. When he opened them again, his breath caught in his throat.

"Is it right now?" Vance asked, snapping Tony from his state of pure and utter shock.

"I," Tony stared at the papers, then looked up at Vance.

"Agent Gibbs is a valuable Agent and team leader," Vance met Tony's gaze, "but I believe it is time you learned to value your own skills as an Agent and team leader."

Tony cleared his throat, trying to will away the tears that he could feel pooling in his eyes. _Man up, DiNozzo._

"Thank you, sir," he finally managed to get out, "for your trust. This is _big_. I-I think I would like to take some time to think it over, consider everything, you know, if that's possible."

Vance nodded, a small smile on his face, "I need your signature by the end of the month."

Tony could barely make his legs work as he got off the chair, clutching the manila folder to his chest, his heart racing. He stopped by the door to nod at Vance, then shut the door behind himself. And it was only then that he realized what Vance had said. Signature, not decision.

* * *

Tony stood at the top of the stairs, watching as his boss swiped the sandpaper across the wooden shell of the boat he was currently building. He suspected it was the same boat he had been building since that fateful night in November, almost three years ago. Three. It was hard to wrap his head around how long it had been.

"You gonna stay up there?" Gibbs' voice pulled Tony from his thoughts.

He sighed as he slowly made his way down the stairs. Wordlessly, Gibbs went over to where he kept his bourbon and poured them each a glass. He handed Tony one, then leaned with his back against the boat, taking a sip from his own drink.

Tony mimicked his position, leaning against the boat next to him as he twirled the glass around in his hands. He knew it showed his nervousness. But really, there was no point in hiding things from Gibbs anyway.

"Vance talked to me today," Tony started, testing the waters.

Gibbs nodded, "I know."

"He offered me," Tony trailed off when Gibbs stared at him.

"I said I know, DiNozzo," he said pointedly.

Tony didn't ask how he knew. Instead he took a sip from his drink.

"Wanna help with the boat?" Gibbs offered after a moment of silence.

Again, Tony didn't ask any questions. He took another sip of bourbon, then placed his glass on the nearby table and picked up some sandpaper. They worked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as the sound of sandpaper scratching over wood filled the room.

"So, what you gonna do?" Gibbs eventually asked, not looking up from his work.

Tony stopped in his movements momentarily, then shrugged as he leaned with his back against the boat again.

"I always thought I'd know my answer when the question came, you know," he mused out loud.

He glanced over at Gibbs when he heard him stop his work.

"I think you know what you need to do," Gibbs said, his intense stare making Tony slightly uncomfortable.

"I do?"

Gibbs shook his head, "You're not dumb, DiNozzo."

Tony lowered his gaze. Gibbs was right. He knew what he needed to do. He knew what was holding him back.

"You go do what you have to, DiNozzo," Gibbs told him.

Tony looked back up at him again, determination slowly settling within him as he nodded. He knew what he needed to do. And he was going to do it.

* * *

The feeling of dread settled deep in his stomach as he raised his hand to knock on the wooden door in front of him. The sweat on his forehead was definitely not caused by the Israeli summer heat. He was nervous, more nervous than he had probably ever been in his life. His spontaneous and very intuitive trip had started feeling like a mistake ever since he had gotten off that plane. Maybe he should have called her instead of flying out and quite literally running down her door. But it was too late for that now. Footsteps sounded from the other side of the door and his heartbeat picked up pace. His head was spinning and he was pretty sure he was going to pass out before the door even opened.

When it did open, his breath caught in his throat. There she was. _Ziva_. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, her skin more tanned, and more beautiful than words could possibly express.

"Hi," she greeted, a smile gracing her features.

She sounded like she had been expecting him, seemingly not surprised to find him in front of her door in Israel.

"Hi," he replied, his voice rough, his lips curved into a smile.

"Do you want to come in?" She offered, opening the door a bit wider.

Their eyes met, a million different emotions passing between them within seconds.

"Yes."

* * *

It was much later that evening when they found themselves on her couch, bodies angled toward each other. He had been unable to keep his eyes off her ever since she had opened the door. She looked happy, calm even. It was a look he wasn't used to, but it looked good on her.

"You seem happy," he finally voiced the thought that had been lingering on the tip of his tongue for the better part of the evening.

She smiled, "I am."

"That's good," he smiled right back at her.

"What about you?"

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to tell her, what she wanted to hear, what she didn't want to hear. But as he looked into her eyes, he knew his answer. She wanted the truth. She had always wanted nothing but the truth.

"Getting there," it was the most honest answer he could come up with.

"Good," she echoed his earlier words.

"So, what have you been up to?" He asked, leaning toward her.

She shrugged, "A bit of everything, I suppose."

He laughed, "You suppose?"

She couldn't help but laugh as well. He was right, it sounded ridiculous, like she didn't know what she herself had been up to.

"I traveled a bit, I did some volunteer work at a local shelter for homeless children, I taught a yoga class," she told him.

"A yoga class?" He repeated, disbelieve swaying in his voice.

She laughed, "It was not the most successful attempt."

"Yeah," he smirked at her, "I figured as much."

She punched his arm playfully, but before she could pull her hand back again, his hand had caught her wrist. His hand turned in hers and their fingers interlaced on their own accord. Her gaze landed on their hands and she felt a familiar warmth spread through her body. When she looked up into his eyes again, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were darker, and the emotion she found in them sent a shiver down her spine.

Her name was a breathless whisper on his lips, and she found herself leaning closer to him until their knees were touching.

"Tony, I," she sighed as she trailed off.

He shook his head gently, "It's okay."

The roughness in his voice made her shiver and before she knew it, her had wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. She sighed in contentment as she sank into his body, allowing herself to fully relax for what was probably the first time in years.

* * *

He didn't complain about his back when they woke up on the couch the next morning, even though it hurt like hell. Instead, he pressed the ghost of a kiss into her hair as he whispered "good morning" to her. They stayed like that until she eventually decided they should have breakfast in the city. She led him to her favorite little restaurant and laughed when he accidentally tried a much too spicy dish.

Sometime during their stroll through the city center, her hand found his and he wasn't able to wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the afternoon. She led him to the studio she had taught her unsuccessful yoga class at and to the shelter she had helped out at. He met some of the kids Ziva had talked about the other night, and to his surprise, the kids liked him. He saw the pride in Ziva's eyes when one little girl squealed in delight because he agreed to "play horse" for her. And he was pretty sure she could see the same pride reflected in his eyes when she built a sandcastle with two young girls. It was uncharted territory for them, but any onlookers would have thought they had never done anything else. Things were light between them, easy even, easier than they had probably ever been.

When they returned to her house in the evening, she made dinner for him and he helped her. They talked about old times, about shared memories and about what they had each been up to for the past three years. Never once did either of them mention his last trip to Israel. And never once did she question why he was here now.

But as they lay next to each other in her bed later that night, she couldn't take it anymore. She was laying on her back, careful to avoid his gaze that she could feel on her. She had hoped he would approach the topic himself, but seeing as he had made no attempts since he had knocked on her door, she needed to take matters into her own hand. Or at least, she felt like she had to.

"Why are you here?" She whispered into the dark.

She heard him sigh and rolled onto her side to face him. She could barely make out his face in the dark, but it wasn't too dark to make out the conflict and worry etched to his features.

"I was surprised you didn't ask that sooner," he joked, a poor attempt at trying to bring humor into the situation.

She shook her head, more determined than ever, "Tony."

A warning tone. A tone that left no room for discussion or easy ways out. It didn't stop him from trying though.

"You always greet me with those words."

When her hand found his, though, all attempts at taking the easy way out flew out the window. This was what he came here for. _Man up, DiNozzo._

He took a deep breath, adverting his eyes, and told her about the offer Vance made him and that Gibbs knows and approves. When he met her eyes again, he saw nothing but pride and something he couldn't help but think is love reflected in them.

"Tony," she whispered, squeezing his hand, "your own team. That is _great_."

"It is?" He asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

" _Of course_ it is," she was quick to nod, "it is amazing."

A small, yet nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "So I should say yes?"

"You have not confirmed it yet?" She asked, confusion written all over her face.

The Tony she knew three years ago would have agreed in an instant, he had always been dreaming about getting his own team one day, being a team leader himself. Or at least that was what he had told her about behind closed doors when nobody had seen them, when they had been just _them_.

"I," he gulped, "I couldn't. I just.."

"You just..?" She probed.

"When Vance made me the offer, something was holding me back and I asked him for some time to think. It didn't make sense until I talked to Gibbs, and then I realized what was holding me back," he told her, the words flowing from his tongue surprisingly easy.

She gave him a questioning look, but he saw a flash of nervousness in her eyes.

"The only thing that felt logical was to," he took a shuddering breath, "to come here."

She had seen his words coming, had braced herself for the impact, and yet his words hit her like a lighting bolt, sucking the air from her lungs.

Her sharp intake of breath must have been perceived by him as a form of rejection because he pulled his hand from hers and turned onto his other side, not facing her. She opened her mouth, but words failed her.

"Make of it what you want," he mumbled, "goodnight, Ziva."

She felt tears pooling in her eyes, but willed them to go away as she rolled onto her side, away from him. She was still wide awake when she heard his soft snores fill the otherwise silent room. And as she listened to his even breathing, she knew that deep down, she hadn't needed for him to say anything. She had known her answer long before he had even asked any question.

* * *

Breakfast was spent in silence the next morning. She occasionally glanced up at him only to find him staring intently at the bowl of cereal in front of him, his fingers loosely holding the spoon and moving it around the cereal. Seeing him like this and knowing that her lack of reaction to the question he hadn't voiced was the cause for it pained her. He had always been there for her. He had been willing to give up everything for her three years ago. She, on the other hand, felt like she had never really given him everything. But she was determined to change it. She could only hope that it wasn't too late now.

After breakfast, she couldn't take it anymore. He had stayed behind at the table while she had carried the dishes into the kitchen. No words had been exchanged. And it was bothering her more than she would have ever led on. She went over to him, took his hand in hers and tugged at his hand, pulling him into a standing position.

"Ziva, what are you doing?" He asked, his voice reflecting defeat.

She wanted to snap at him, to tell him to just shut up and come with her. But she didn't. Instead, she led him out into the orchard in silence. She took a deep breath when they came to a stop right where they had buried her box three years ago. She let go of his hand and knelt down. The shovel was still stuck in the ground close by as she had been working out here a few days ago and had left it there. Her hand was shaking slightly as she took the shovel and slowly started to dig a hole where she knew the box was.

Tony seemed to catch onto what she was doing, her name like a warning on his lips. He didn't want her to do this. He hadn't meant for her to throw everything away just because he couldn't let go. That wasn't why he had come. Or maybe it was, and he was just not ready to admit it.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Ziva's lips as she dug out the box, her hand running over the hard surface to free it of the dirt. With shaking hands, she opened the box and retrieved her list. It was a little crumpled, but still perfectly readable.

When she got up and looked at him, she saw her own nervousness reflected in his eyes. She held the paper out for him, but he shook his head.

She took a deep breath, "I will let go of the badge."

He listened as she slowly read the list to him, tension radiating off his body. He watched her intently and was surprised to find that only her hands were shaking slightly, and she appeared to be relaxed otherwise.

As she finished, she looked up into his eyes, a smile forming on her lips.

"It does not say I will not return to Washington," she stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He felt a lump forming in his throat and something like hope settling around his heart. He willed the feeling to go away. He was too familiar with it. The hope would settle around his heart and then squeeze until it was smashed into a billion pieces.

"I know," he eventually managed to get out, his voice rough.

Ziva took a step closer to him, their bodies almost touching now. Her hand found his and she pressed the piece of paper into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

"But it does say I will be happy," she whispered, her hands still firmly clasped around his.

The steadiness in her voice surprised him. He nodded tentatively as an answer, bracing himself for the words of rejection that he was sure were going to come next.

But she didn't say anything. Instead, she leaned up, one of her hands coming up to cup his cheek, just like she had done three years ago. Her eyes met his for a second and he saw a glimmer of something he couldn't quite name in them. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut when her lips met his skin, pressing the ghost of a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The sensation was gone as quickly as it had come, and when he opened his eyes again he saw a familiar sparkle in her eyes that he had not seen in three years.

"Does that answer your question?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper.

He looked at her in confusion, "I didn't ask a question."

"And I did not answer," she winked at him.

It dawned on him then. They had always been better without words, for them it had always been actions that spoke the loudest. He hadn't voiced a question; she hadn't voiced an answer. But his eyes had asked a question, and her lips had answered it.

His free hand came up to cover hers on his cheek. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked up into his darkened eyes.

His eyes never left hers and his voice didn't waver as he repeated exactly what he had said right here, three years ago, "Come home with me."

This time, she nodded.

* * *

When they returned to Washington, he said she should go bag groceries, but they both knew he was joking. It was easy between them, easier than it had probably ever been. He hated to admit it, but he was pretty sure that they both needed this time for themselves. He hated that it had taken three years. But if growing apart meant growing together, he didn't object it. There were no questions about where she would be living. She had made the decision the day they had left Israel when she had given Schmiel Tony's address and asked him to ship the last of her belongings and visit them for Christmas. The old man hadn't really said much, just one word that had stuck with Tony ever since, "Finally."

Two days after their return to Washington, they went to Gibbs' house together. He, too, had not much to say. He clapped Tony on the back, "Told you you knew what needed to be done." Gibbs' eyes were shining suspiciously when he pulled Ziva into a hug and whispered something into her ear that made her smile despite the tears pooling in her eyes.

They had the team over for dinner that night. Surprise met utter excitement and soon Ziva had found herself surrounded by the people she had missed most. Tony's heart had swelled in pride and happiness as he had watched her laugh that night.

Three days after their return to Washington, he went to talk to Vance. She was right there with him, holding his hand as they walked up the stairs to the director's office. And she was right there, smiling at him proudly when he signed the papers.

"Did I do the right thing?" He asked as they walked out of Vance's office.

Ziva stopped in her tracks to turn around to him and shook her head, a smile on her face. "Will you ever stop doubting yourself?"

He bit his lip sheepishly, and she took a step closer to him, closing the space between them. Her hands came up to rest on his chest.

"You're not only a good man, Tony," her lips were almost touching his, "but you are a great Agent, too."

Words failed him, so instead he just kissed her. Her arms snaked around his neck and he felt her smile into the kiss.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" He whispered when they broke the kiss and their eyes met again.

He was surprised to see a faint blush creep onto her cheeks as she adverted her gaze for a second.

"How could I not know?" She eventually replied, the seriousness in her voice surprising him.

"You went above and beyond for me, you offered to give up everything for me," she reminded him, her finger trailing down his chest until her hand was resting above his heart.

"But now," he shook his head, "you gave up everything for me."

She smiled at him then, a genuine smile, a smile that spoke louder than words. "I didn't give up anything, I _got_ everything."

His lips found hers again in the gentlest of kisses, different than any other kiss they had shared before. It was one of love, of _promise_.

"Rule 12," Gibbs' voice brought them back to reality.

They turned to look at him, slightly flustered, only to find Gibbs smirking at them.

"Not anymore," Tony said, grinning.

Gibbs laughed as he shook his head, "Come on, DiNozzo, get outta here."

"Yes, boss," Tony laughed.

He took Ziva's hand in his, their fingers interlacing, and together they made their way toward the elevator. One last time as senior field agent.

Just as they reached the elevator, Gibbs shouted after them, "Not anymore."

It took a second to register with Tony, but then he grinned at Gibbs, "Yeah, not anymore."

He turned to look at Ziva and found her smiling at him. And as the elevator doors closed, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She was here. And she had been right, that was _everything_.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's a wrap! :)  
Please let me know what you think in the comments section below (and if you have any prompts, feel free to leave them there too) :) Looking forward to hearing from you! :) (especially since it's been so long since I last wrote a Tiva fic, so I really hope you actually liked this haha)  
Love you all to pieces xoxo  
~ C.**

 **P.S. This is my 45th fanfiction published on here! Yaaaay :D  
**


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